


On Touche Avec Les Yeux | Look Don’t Touch

by idiom



Series: Sébastien Le Voyeur [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Shameless Smut, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26332210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiom/pseuds/idiom
Summary: It’s been a few weeks since that drunken night after the party and Sébastien hasn’t been able to rest easy. The tension is high and he just has to know… did Joe tell Nicky that he’d watched them together or is Nicky blissfully ignorant?One day, while Andy needs Joe’s help speaking to a new contact, Sébastien gets a chance to find out.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Sébastien Le Voyeur [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913455
Comments: 36
Kudos: 243





	On Touche Avec Les Yeux | Look Don’t Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I got a lot of requests for a sequel in which Sébastien gets some… so this is that… sort of… not really... it’s just more voyeurism… par for the course... I mean, the French invented voyeurism… literally… you can look it up… HA! 
> 
> Also… Andy seems to have magical premonitions and always knows exactly when the tension between the boys has reached its peak and she needs to gtfo of the flat for the evening ^^;

PARIS 1925 

It had been weeks since that drunken night — weeks of Sébastien trying not to think about Joe and Nicky. Flashes of what he’d seen stood in their bedroom doorway came to him when he closed his eyes trying to sleep at night. He would often find himself laying in bed, fists balled up, jaw clenched tight, trying desperately not to give into the urge to touch himself.

The worst part of it was not Joe’s knowing glances or the way he managed to subtly slip in teasing remarks that only he and Sébastien would understand. No, all of that was reasonably bearable. The worst part was Nicky. 

Nicky was still sweet and kind as always. He didn’t even hint that he knew Sébastien had watched them that night. And that begged the question, did he know?

With the way Joe’d been fucking him into a state of blissful oblivion, Sébastien supposed that Nicky hadn’t seen him at the time. He wanted to confess his sins to the former priest, apologize for his intrusion and find a way to put it behind him, but a thought tickled the back of his mind.

What if Joe hadn’t told Nicky? 

As he passed the couple’s bedroom door on his way to the breakfast table, Sébastien swallowed a thick lump in his throat.

Andy was alone at the table taking the first bite of a piece of bread that was practically dripping with the amount of jam she’d slathered over it. 

“ _Salut_. Hey,” he muttered, wandering over to the kettle and making himself a morning brew.

“Morning,” Andy replied. She cast him a tired glance before going back to her breakfast. “You been sleeping?”

“Yes,” Sébastien lied. “Why do you ask?”

Andy shrugged and didn’t reply, but she did gesture to her face with one hand before returning to her toast.

Sébastien grunted at that and grabbed a croissant from the bread basket at the centre of the table. “Where are Joe and Nicky?” he asked. He was typically the last at the table.

Andy chuckled to herself. “Do you really wanna know?”

Sébastien groaned. Well, at least they’d closed the door this time.

Haggard and still slow after waking up, Sébastien and Andy sat in silence. They sipped their tea for a drawn out moment before they heard the door at the other end of the house creak open. Joe and Nicky’s voices soon carried into the hall, heralding them as they made their way into the kitchen.

The two of them had their usual blissfully well-sated aura surrounding them. Nicky sauntered into the kitchen clearly wearing one of Joe’s shirts as the thing billowed off him ever so slightly more than his own clothing normally did. 

Joe had a goofy sort of smile pulling at his lips. He was a bit worse for wear. His curls were sticking out this way and that despite whatever minor attempt he’d made at patting them into some semblance of a style. 

What they’d been doing before leaving the bedroom that morning wasn’t exactly glaringly obvious, but it was fairly clear.

“Buongiorno! Good morning!” Nicky greeted them as he sat next to Sébastien with an all too satisfied smile on his face. 

“For _you_ ,” Andy muttered, huffing out a laugh. “Since you guys are finally here, Nicky, I need to borrow your husband for the day.”

“Oh?” Joe said. He took up the seat next to Andy and plucked a croissant from the breadbasket. “What’s going on?”

“A new contact,” Andy replied. “She knows about the owner of that unlicensed brothel that keeps their girls locked up. Our last patron is trying to connect us with her, but she only speaks Arabic and mine is rusty to say the least.” 

Joe nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

“Ah, Joe, we were going to meet that artist who wants me to model for him this afternoon.” Nicky pouted, his face downturning ever-so-subtly. He said it not trying to convince Joe, but rather with an edge of disappointment knowing already that this new mission was more important.

Andy sucked her teeth, shaking her head. “Another one? Jesus, Nicky, between the impressionists, the romantic era and the renaissance, people are going to start noticing a trend.”

“ _Non è certo colpa mia_. It is hardly my fault.” Nicky pursed his lips and shrugged. “They approach me and I feel it would be rude to say no. It’s no effort on my part to sit just a few hours for the sake of art.”

Andy hummed. “Still, it’s not safe to go alone,” she commented. “ Not that you can’t handle yourself, Nicky, but we never know when it could be a trap. We don’t want to lose you.”

“Yes, you are right,” Nicky sighed. “I suppose I will send a telegram to tell him that I cannot come.”

“No, Nicky,” Joe cut in. “You should still go if you want to. Just take Sébastien with you. He can accompany you in my stead.”

Sébastien frowned at Joe for volunteering his services, but the other man only shrugged and shot him a smile. When Sébastien turned to Nicky, the other man was all wide eyed and hopeful.

“Will you come with me, Sébastien? I’m certain nothing bad will happen and Jean-Pierre has excellent taste in wine.” Nicky smiled optimistically. “ _S'il vous plaît..._ Please…?”

“Uh, _bien sûr_ , of course,” Sébastien replied though he had to clear his throat before he carried on. Something about those stormy eyes looking to him saying please hit him in a way that was far from suitable for the breakfast table. “If Joe cannot, I will be happy to take you to meet your artist.”

“ _Magnifique, merci_. Great, thank you,” Nicky said with a subtle smile. “We will see you this evening then.” 

He quickly finished up eating and stood from the table. Pressing a kiss to Joe’s lips, he whispered his goodbyes before waving to Andy. There was a barely-there bounce in his steps as he returned to the room he shared with Joe to find the rest of his clothes.

With a grunt, Sébastien pushed back from the table and stood. He wondered lethargically towards the door to be ready for when Nicky wanted to leave.

“ _Veillez sur lui_. You watch out for him,” Joe called out behind him. 

Sébastien could hear the smirk in his voice and when he turned to respond, Joe shot him a wink.

_Merde… Shit…_

_—_

“Niccolò! _C’est un plaisir!_ It’s a pleasure!” The artist cheered as he let them into the room.

“Jean-Pierre,” Nicky as they faire la bise. “This is my friend, Sébastien Lelivre.”

Sébastien nodded to the artist from over Nicky’s shoulder. He eyed the man up and down. Jean-Pierre was definitely the picture of a French impressionist. He was tall and lanky, he wore his dark hair in what Sébastien supposed one could call a style, and the smock he wore was covered in multicoloured dabs of paint.

“I hope you don’t mind, I brought Sébastien along because Joe couldn’t make it,” Nicky said with that understated smile of his.

“Of course, of course!” Jean-Pierre said, ushering them through the foyer. “Welcome, Monsieur Lelivre. Do come in and follow me.”

Sébastien trailed behind Nicky, eyeing the paintings haining in a line down the hall as they went. Each piece, coated in a layer of dappled paint, depicted a naked or partially undressed young man. It was safe to say Jean-Pierre had a particular… preference when it came to his models. Still, he was quite a talented impressionist.

Jean-Pierre led them into an open room. His studio was on the top floor of a building that appeared as if it used to be a flower shop of some sort. The long glass window that once housed intricate floral bouquets now lit a wide wooden floor covered in a mess of paint, brushes, canvas, fabric and a grand assortment of other art supplies.

At least Nicky hadn’t been bluffing about the wine. As they entered the studio, Jean-Pierre offered Sébastien a generous glass while Nicky rushed away behind a curtain to prepare himself. He held a swath of silken fabric that the artist had instructed him to wrap around his naked body like an old Roman senator.

“You know, Monsieur Lelivre,” Jean-Pierre spoke as they waited for Nicky to return, “most artists throughout history seem to obsess over the female form, but I prefer to paint the male figure in all its states and I have found there is something about Italian men that simply—”

Sébastien downed half his glass in a single swallow while the artist droned on about his aesthetics and inclinations. He’s eyes never left the latticed wood curtain Nicky had disappeared behind earlier. When he reappeared, Sébastien was glad he’d already finished his wine because he almost choked on the air. 

Nicky was wrapped in white with one shoulder and half his chest bared for all to see. He’d clearly had no trouble with assembling the plain fabric he’d been given into an intricately folded robe. Sébastien did a little mental arithmetic, trying to remember if Nicky had been around long enough to learn that technique from an actual Roman senator. 

“ _Magnifique_ , Niccolò! Please, please,” Jean-Pierre ushered him towards a stool in front of his easel before hurrying over to the side table. He poured Nicky a glass of wine. As soon as he finished and his back was turned to pass the cup to Nicky, Sébastien crept over and topped up his own glass. 

The Old Guard could rarely afford wine as good as what Jean-Pierre supplied and he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“ _Voilà_. There you are,” the artist said smoothly as he handed Nicky his glass before stepping away. He started painting as soon as he returned behind his easel.

“Feel free to drink as I work,” Jean-Pierre said to Nicky, seeming to notice that he had not yet touched his wine after a few minutes. “I am not one of those artists who need my models to be still as a rock.”

 _“Grazie._ Thanks,” Nicky said, his eyes shifting between Sébastien and the artist as he took his first sip of wine. “It’s very good, as always.”

“ _Bien sûr!_ Of course!” Jean-Pierre exclaimed. “Drink as much as you like! I want you relaxed.”

“I am always relaxed,” Nicky all-but purred in response. 

Sébastien couldn’t help but huff at that. He turned his head to hide a smirk, thinking of all the times he’s seen Joe get even slightly scratched and not just on the battlefield. Joe could burn his finger making tea and suddenly ‘relaxed’ wouldn’t be the word anyone could use to define Nicky.

As Sébastien turned away, he noticed Jean-Pierre shuffle from behind his easel. The artist took his own sip of wine before setting down his glass. He cocked his head to one side, his eyes shifting between his work and Nicky. Eventually, he sauntered out towards his model.

“ _S'il vous plaît_. If you please,” Jean-Pierre drawled. 

Nicky raised a brow, unsure what to do. He was just sitting, chest partially exposed and the blanket of fabric wrapped about his shoulders falling away over his knees. 

“Please.” Jean-Pierre smiled and reached out. His hands moved to Nicky’s exposed legs, pressing them apart and sliding the sheet up his thighs. “Allow me to position you just so—”

“Oi!” Sébastien shouted at the man, startling him out of his skin. He pointed a stern finger in the artist’s direction and met Jean-Pierre’s wide eyed gaze with a narrow glare. “ _On touche avec les yeux!_ Look don’t touch!” 

Jean-Pierre gaped at him, unsure of how to react. While Nicky simply raised a brow. 

“That is my line, isn’t it?” he chuckled, lips tilting up into a subtle smirk. Still with hard grey eyes on the hand creeping along his thigh, he cleared his throat. “S'il vous plaît... If you please…” he drawled as Jean-Pierre had done moments before. 

“ _Bien sûr!_ Of course!” The artist backed away, raising his hands in a respectful sign of yielding. “I didn’t mean to cause offense. Ah, could you cross your legs and lean forward.” 

Nicky did as he was asked, no touch required. 

—

The rest of the session went on without issue and a few hours later Jean-Pierre allowed them to look behind his easel. 

“ _Voilà!_ What do you think?” he said with delight glowing in his eyes.

“ _Magnifique_ ,” Nicky said with a smile. “You’ve captured me well.”

Sébastien made a face, but he wasn’t about to politely disagree while he was still seething about the incident earlier. _Joe_ captured Nicky well, this man seemed to focus on… very particular aspects of Nicky’s body and did very little work on his face. Honestly, it could have been any toned young man draped in white silks.

After that they left Jean-Pierre’s studio, waving the man goodbye at the door and thanking him for the wine. They walked home in relative silence, but as soon as their door closed behind them, Sébastien snapped. He was practically enraged as if he couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed.

“How dare that young man be so tactless, putting his hands on you like that,” he muttered, shaking his head. 

“He was not so bad, Sébastien,” Nicky said as he calmly hung up his scarf. He turned to Sébastien with a smile. “You are too harsh.”

“Well,” Sébastien huffed, “I don’t think Joe would have been happy with that. His reaction would have been ten times as harsh.”

Nicky’s smile grew ever so slightly and he quickly hid it behind a hand, shaking his head. “Ah, you are wrong about Joe. He is not jealous or possessive in such ways.” Nicky chuckled softly. “And I would have asked Jean-Pierre to stop when he made me uncomfortable... had you not stepped in.”

“I just wanted to look out for you!” Sébastien protested. “That’s why you asked me to come, wasn’t it?”

Nicky raised a brow. “Of course, but why so harsh on my behalf?”

“Because I…” Sébastien blinked, trailing off. 

Nicky wasn’t some maiden in need of defending. Of course he wasn’t. On the sharp contrary, Nicky was a man several centuries older than Sébastien himself. Niccolò di Genova had a calm demeanour and kind eyes, but he was a man who had seen and contributed to some of their world's darkest times. That begged the question: What was Sébastien doing hiding things from him?

“Nicky, I have to confess something to you,” he said. When Nicky turned to him expectantly he went on, “It’s… it’s about the night after that party in the flat at Montparnasse.”

“Ah,” Nicky exhaled. A soft chuckle passed his lips before he nodded to Sébastien with a coy smile. “Go on.”

Sébastien swallowed. He suddenly had the sense that he was walking into some kind of trap that had been laid long before this conversation started.

“I saw you and Joe...”

“Yes.”

“...in bed.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Yes.” Nicky crossed his arms over his chest. “Joe told me after I apologized in the morning. In fact, he said I shouldn’t have apologized to you _at all_ because you’d already gotten your satisfaction.”

“Ah,” Sébastien breathed.

“Ah, indeed.” Nicky huffed out his nose. “I was surprised, but did you think he hadn’t told me?”

Sébastien looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I—”

“You know,” Nicky cut him off, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “It is strange that you think Joe would keep anything from me after all these centuries we have been together. I am curious what made you think there would ever be any secrets between us.”

Sébastien spluttered, trying to find an answer he did not have. He was about to open his mouth and speak in his own defense when the lock on the front door clicked and the heavy wood creaked open.

Speak of the devil… thank God.

The flat’s door opened and Joe stepped in, closing it behind him. He slipped off his shoes and coat before looking up. When his eyes landed on Nicky’s soft tranquil smile and a guilty looking Sébastien, he couldn’t help but let out a huffing laugh.

“You told him, huh?”

Nicky’s lips quirked and that was all the answer Joe needed. Deliberately, Nicky’s stormy gaze shifted over Joe’s shoulder. “Where’s Andy?”

“She said she was going out. She’ll be back tomorrow,” he replied casually. With a sauntering grace to his stepps, he approached the couch and sat snug between Nicky and Sébastien. “How was your modelling session?”

Nicky immediately leaned into Joe’s warmth. His entire being softened with the man at his side. “I sat for a long while and the painting was thankfully finished so I do not think I will be needed back.”

“And the finished work?”

“ _Un capolavoro!_ A masterpiece!”

Joe’s lips twitched, trying to hold back a smirk. “I’m sure that is only true by virtue of your being the subject of the work.”

“ _Non è vero!_ Not true!” Nicky protested. “Jean-Pierre is an excellent painter.”

Joe huffed and turned to Sébastien then. “Tell me the truth, was the painting good?” he demanded with a sly smile. “I ask you because Nicky is always too kind to these artists.”

Sébastien had been carefully studying the two men. Joe had changed the subject and now he wasn’t sure what was going on. “It was… good. Stylized.”

“It’s called impressionism,” Nicky clarified.

Sébastien only grunted, reaching for his pocket where he knew his flask would be easy to find. “It was good,” he repeated, unsure of what else to say.

“As good as watching your companions fuck from a dark hallway?”

Sébastien had barely got his lips around the neck of his flask before he was choking on his liquor. “Bon Dieu! Good God! Joe,” he hissed

“You know, Sébastien,” Joe went on casually, throwing his arm around the back of the couch, across both his and Nicky’s shoulders, “there are plenty of places you can go if you like to watch. I’ve heard of one somewhere along rue des Moulins. Toulouse did a mural for them actually!”

“Did he? Ah, bless him,” Nicky said as if they were just having a casual chat about a dearly departed friend that didn’t revolve vaguely around brothels or to do with Sébastien’s proclivities.

“I’m not interested in— I don’t—”

“You know,” Nicky cut in, turning to Joe, “Sébastien thought you hadn’t told me.”

Joe’s gaze turned on him, cinders of amusement burning in his dark eyes. “Did he now? But he surely knows after all these years there are no secrets between us.”

Sébastien swallowed.

“I asked but you arrived home before he had the chance to answer.” 

As Nicky said this, Sébastien spluttered for a response, but it was Joe who got the next word in.

“Perhaps we need to prove it to him, _habibi_.”

Nicky hummed a delighted sound as he leaned into Joe. Their lips met and Sébastien couldn’t quite see past the angle of Joe’s head, but he could hear their soft moans and the wet sounds as they licked into each other’s mouths. Nicky’s fingers appeared, curling around the back of Joe’s neck and playing with his hair.

When he pulled back, his foggy-grey eyes gradually opened. His gaze locked with Joe’s for a long while. They spoke a thousand words with that stare before both men turned to Sébastien.

“Come here.” Joe stood suddenly, his hand landing on Sébastien’s shoulder. When the man didn’t stand with him, he fisted his grib in his shirt to urge him up. He quickly relented and Joe led him stumbling through the living room into Nicky and Joe’s shared bedroom.

With a gentle push, Sébastien found himself flopping down into a plush chair next to the window less than a metre from the bed.

Nicky sauntered in behind them, kicking the door shut with one foot while his hands worked at the top button of his shirt.

“ _C'est trop tordu._ This is so twisted,” Sébastien muttered under his breath, though he didn’t for a second take his eyes off his companions. They stripped at a deliberate pace, their eyes on each other’s bodies, tracing every inch of skin as it was slowly exposed.

Nicky was naked first, having dressed simply for the modeling session earlier. He lay on the bed first, joining in with Sébastien to appreciate the show as Joe’s shirt finally fell away and his sculpted torso came into view. 

“The sight of you like this always reminds me of when we travelled through the Thar Desert and we came upon that great basin.” Nicky chuckled. “You praised every god you’d ever heard of, stripped and dove in.”

Joe laughed out loud. “That’s not the only thing I dove into that day, if memory serves correct,” he said, reaching for the buttons holding his pants closed with a wink.

Sébastien closed his eyes with a groan. Fuck, and now he couldn’t stop picturing them on the shore of some oasis, tanned bodies writhing together on the beach, dripping wet from a swim. Shaking the image from his mind, he focused on the fantasy playing out in front of him rather than the ones in his head.

Joe kicked off his pants and left them with the trail of clothes spread haphazardly over the floor. Naked, he approached the bed. Nicky was close enough for him to reach without climbing in just yet, so he took a hand to each of his lover’s knees. 

With gentle pressure, Joe spread Nicky’s legs before easing himself up onto the bed and settling between them. Their bodies fit so perfectly together, as if they’d been shaped and moulded for one another.

Nicky shuddered visibly as soon as their skin met. His thighs squeezed Joe’s hips and he closed his eyes.

Sébastien pressed a hand to his mouth, still, unmoving. His eyes were glued to the scene, unblinking. 

Nicky and Joe kissed with a millenia worth of passion. Their tongues met. Their hands trailed over each other’s necks and the lines of each other’s jaws, fingers burying in straight locks and dark curls.

Sébastien could feel a tight knot growing in his abdomen. His hand fell from the arm of the chair, almost unconsciously making its way into his lap. He groaned, squeezing himself through his trousers as he watched Joe trail kisses down the line of Nicky’s chest only pausing to draw his tongue over his enraptured lover’s peaked nipples.

Nicky’s back arched off the bed. He was whispering things in a language Sébastien didn’t understand as his fingers threaded into Joe’s curls. He pushed the man down, further and further down. 

When Joe’s face was between Nicky’s legs and both hands gripped his thighs, a delighted smile spread over Nicky’s lips. His head arched back and he let out a gasp. His body shuddered.

“Joe, _dai,_ come on,” Nicky pleaded as he mussed Joe’s hair further. “Don’t tease me.”

Joe moaned hungrily between Nicky’s legs. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along pale inner-thighs before his lips closed over the head of Nicky’s cock. 

Nicky’s pleasured groans filled the room. Sébastien could only imagine the sensation. He bit his lip and pressed his palm firmly over the bulge aching beneath his trousers. He wasn’t sure what he wanted more. He wished it was his mouth on Nicky or Joe’s mouth on his cock and he was in Nicky’s place. The fantasy ran wild as Joe’s head bobbed up and down between his lover’s shuddering thighs.

“I’m close, Joe,” Nicky whispered, losing control of his thrusting hips.

“Ah, but Nicky. You cannot,” Joe murmured as he pulled off his lover’s cock, drawing his tongue over the length of it as he went. “It would be terribly rude. Sébastien hasn’t even undressed yet.”

As dark, lust-blown eyes turned on him, Sébastien straightened in his seat, trying desperately not to look as desperate as he felt. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

“Are you sure?” Joe asked with a raised brow. “Your pants seem a little tight.”

“ _Sì._ Yes. Very uncomfortable,” Nicky added despite his breathless disheveled state.

“Fuck it.” Sébastien stood abruptly and stripped as fast as he possibly could. He tossed his shirt and pants over the back of the chair and approached the bed, naked as the day he was born. 

“You can look... but don’t touch,” Joe told him, winking at Sébastien as soon as the man’s knee hit the edge of the mattress. 

Sébastien froze there, half in bed half out. He frowned at the couple who were still about two feet from him on the left side of their mattress.

“ _On touche avec les yeux_ ,” Nicky repeated Joe’s words in French with a subtle smirk. “Right, Sébastien?”

“You’re serious?” he hissed in response, gripping his cock in one hand, half hiding himself from view and squeezing to draw out his own pleasure. “You’re both sadistic.” 

“You can always leave,” Joe said, jerking his head to gesture back over one shoulder. “Door’s right there.”

“Or you can stay and watch,” Nicky countered. He lifted his hands and trailed his long pale fingers over the tanned expanse of Joe’s chest, caressing him until he reached the thick length of his lover’s cock. “You should stay… watch.”

Joe grunted out as Nicky’s firm grip closed over him, easing the ache between his legs. “Nicky’s right. You don’t want to spoil the fun.”

With a muttered curse, Sébastien shook his head and joined the two in bed. He ended up in the right corner, near the foot of the bed where he could get a good view of the space between Nicky’s spread legs. He’d never felt more like a dirty old man, but then again he didn’t want to spoil the fun.

Joe smirked at him before turning back to Nicky, whose grey eyes were heavy now with lust. 

“ _Dammi._ Give it to me,” he purred, squeezing hard as he pulled Joe’s cock.

“What’s gotten into you?” Joe teased right back, thrusting into his hot grip.

‘What’s about to?’ Sébastien wanted to say, but he kept his lips shut. He slowed his strokes, running a hand over his mouth to hold back the words. He watched Joe move up to kiss Nicky while the man’s fingers walked their way down over Nicky’s shuddering abdomen, back between his legs. The first finger tapped at Nicky’s twitching entrance before it slipped in easily.

“How are you always as tight as the first time we made love,” Joe whispered hot against his lips.

“You say that almost every time,” Nicky replied, a pinched smile in place before his lips parted with a gasp.

“And everytime you squeeze me just that little bit tighter,” Joe chuckled. He pressed in deeper, moving his fingers in a way that had Nicky rocking back against him.

Sébastien choked back a groan, listening to their soft conversation. He was openly stroking his cock now, though as he watched Joe remove his fingers, he had to hold his balls in a death grip to keep himself from coming too quickly. He had the perfect angle to watch the engorged head of Joe’s cock tap Nicky’s puckered entrance. When Joe finally pressed in, Nicky’s body took him hungrily all the way.

Nicky made for such a sensual display with his legs spread wide around Joe’s thrusting hips. And Joe gave his cock so deep in such long slow drags, the pleasure of it had to be unbearable. But Nicky took it so well, biting his lip and moaning deep in his chest every time Joe’s hips smacked against his ass with a positively vulgar slap.

Nicky arched his back expanding the long creamy line of his chest and abdomen. Moaning a heady sigh, he made a show of biting his lip and pressing back into Joe’s thrusts.

Sébastien tugged his cock at a furious pace. His gaze flitted between Nicky and Joe.

Joe was doing the same, his attention split between the two men before him. He smiled almost caustically as he watched Sébastien’s hand nearly disappearing with the speed of his strokes.

Chuckling deep in his chest, Joe leaned forward. He buried his face in Nicky’s neck, attacking the length of his throat with kisses. Putting on a show, he rolled his hips, thrusting slow and steady in a way he seemed to know would draw the most scandalous cries from his lover’s lips.

Nicky closed his eyes and threw his head back, giving Joe more access to his neck where bruising kisses left quickly fading marks in their wake. 

“Fuck me, Joe. Harder,” he hissed, clawing his fingers over the sculpted muscles of his lover’s back before caressing the line of his spine with a gentler touch. “Please.” 

As Joe picked up his pace rushing them faster and faster towards their peak, Sébastien leaned forward from his position by the bedpost. He came to sit on his heels at the edge of the bed. Breathing in hard panting grunts, his hand was moving over his cock at a furious pace, trying to match Joe’s thrusts but often speeding up as pleasure overwhelmed him.

With eyes half lidded from pleasure, Nicky’s gaze briefly left Joe. He scanned Sébastien’s body slowly up and down and, with a subtle smirk, he reached out. The tips of his fingers ever so gently caressed the muscled angle of Sébastien’s lower abdomen. A single touch.

That was all it took. 

“Shit!” With a sharp exhale, Sébastien’s body jerked and he came. His hand stilled, gripping his cock as pleasure erupted from him. A splash of his spend jolted out, painting Nicky’s cheek.

As the man beneath him gasped his surprise, Joe groaned at the sight. Even as his thrusts grew harder, he pressed his hand to Nicky’s jaw and used his thumb to clean away the mark.

Pressing a kiss to the place it had been, Joe turned to Sébastien. His fingers caught the man’s jaw and he pressed his soiled thumb to Sébastien’s panting lips.

“You’re such a mess,” Joe chuckled as the pad of his thumb dipped along the flat of Sébastien’s tongue.

Sébastien groaned and his body twitched with the last remnants of his climax. 

_Fuck…_

He fell back against the bedpost, panting as he continued to watch. Joe rolled onto his back and Nicky switched with him. Two large hands cupped his cheeks while he rode in Joe’s lap, bouncing furiously on his thick cock.

“Yes, yes,” Nicky gasped, pressing his hands into Joe’s chest, fingers digging into his muscles. Damn, this was a side of him Sébastien had never seen before. Watching Nicky chase ecstasy before coming with a full body shiver was an almost religious experience.

Joe groaned as the tanned skin of his chest was painted with white hot splashes of his lover’s pleasure. He thrust up into Nicky’s blissed out body, fingers digging into the flesh of his lover’s ass as he came with a heady moan.

Nicky collapsed over him. He pressed kisses to Joe’s lips, his body still squeezing his cock once or twice before he rolled off with a sigh. 

“That was fun,” Joe murmured, laying back on the bed with his eyes closed. “You should come watch more often.”

“ _Oui._ Yes,” Nicky added, letting out a satisfied sigh as Joe spooned up behind him. His grey eyes met Sébastien’s and he smirked. “ _J’aime quand tu touches avec tes yeux._ I like it when you touch with your eyes.”

Sébastien groaned, his head lolling back against the end of the bed. God give him strength, he was going to avoid Nicky and Joe’s bedroom for the rest of his immortal life... or they’d be making this a nightly occurrence. 

Either way… _Fuck…_

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments stay to watch Joe and Nicky cuddle <3 
> 
> Your kudos let Sébastien cuddle up with them <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [itsanidiom](http://itsanidiom.tumblr.com/)


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